The End

The harrowing final miles of a marathon are a whole new race.

It waits for all marathoners, and always comes in its own way in each race. For me, in Boston, it began at the top of Heartbreak Hill, where whatever pride I felt in finishing the ascent crumbled as I saw how far I had to go. In New York, it was waiting for me as I descended from the Willis Avenue Bridge into the cramp-filled hell of the Bronx. And whenever I run Chicago, I find it just beyond the southward turn onto Halsted Street and the desolate South Side industrial slough that follows. Whatever it is, it isn't the wall. A wall implies two things: First, that there is a single, perpendicular obstacle blocking your progress; and second, that there is a side beyond, where your vistas are wide and your troubles recede. No, during the last six miles of a marathon, your troubles find you, and stick to you, like dirt to a dust bunny. Call it a boundary, if you want, or a passage to the mountain kingdom of misery.

It's a hoary cliche of running that probably dates back to Pheidippides himself: Somewhere outside of Athens, he mutters, "Wow, this run wouldn't be such a big deal if it were only 20 miles...but these last six are a killer." Admit it. You can run 20 miles and later that day forget to mention it to other people you want to impress. But add 6.2 on top of it, and everyone starts to say you're crazy to attempt it, and when you're in the thick of those 10,000 meters of regret, you'll be inclined to agree.

The Last Six has been the subject of much thought among running cognoscenti. Most think that because the pain is inevitable, the best you can do is train up your body's endurance with as many 20-milers as you can bear, then brace yourself for the big hurt on race day. Don't think about the pain, don't practice for it—just get there and hold on till it's over.

Paul Carrozza, founder of Austin's Run-Tex shoe emporiums and running guru to Texas governors, takes a different tack. His marathon-training plan scorns the standard incremental increases in mileage; for him, it's all about preparing for an intense, painful 10-K that happens to start 20 miles away. He instructs runners to stud their marathon training with 10-K races, aimed at achieving a PR at that distance shortly before the marathon. "Your 10-K at the end of the marathon isn't going to be as fast," he says, "but it's going to have an equivalent intensity. You have to get used to being that uncomfortable."

Sounds good, but how do you get used to being that hopeless? "Stay in the moment," Carrozza says. "And remember: It will be over with soon, and once it's over, you'll own it forever."